Jennifer Anne-Hill champions the cause of the graphic novel
So you want to read comics, do you? Well, you’re going to need lots of storage space. Flat boxes, acid-free polythene bags. I can recommend a good website.
Let’s debunk a few stereotypes here. I don’t deny that there are people who go in for all that geeky stuff but for most, the fun lies in reading them, not preserving them. In the interests of breaking down preconceptions and providing a comprehensive introduction to the novice, I’ve read the best and the worst comic book offerings, so you won’t have to and lined up a little something for everyone. And while we’re debunking stereotypes, I’m a 21 year-old young woman in a Topshop t-shirt who is planning to show you that comics aren’t just for slightly strange men or monosyllabic teenagers – in fact, most parents would be shocked to see their precious little darlings reading a few of the titles I’ve listed here.
So why should you read comics? For one thing they’re intellectually fascinating, often capable of subjecting the reader to the most rigorous literary and psychoanalytic theory. The variety and range that is available means that whether you’re after horror, crime, or romance there’ll be something to satisfy your tastes; comics may be well-known for their costumed superheroes but there’s not a genre that this medium hasn’t touched.
In the 1930s and ‘40s, an American publisher called DC Comics launched a line of superhero characters which included the debuts of Batman (1939) and Superman (1938). This has come to be known as the golden age of comics, and purists maintain that standards have been slipping ever since. The silver age began in the 1960s when the American company Marvel Comics, headed by legend Stan Lee, created a completely new line of superheroes including the Fantastic Four (1961), Spiderman (1962), and X-Men (1963). The third age of comics started somewhere in the ‘80s when comic books had fewer problems with censorship, and also began to display a propensity to question the genre itself. Alan Moore’s Watchmen (1986) told the story of a superhero team over two different generations which tackled adult themes and psychologically profiled its ‘heroes.’ After all, what exactly does motivate a man to put on tights and a cape and start hanging around looking sinister on rooftops at night?
All of these titles were published as separate monthly or weekly comics, telling a story over a period of months or years. Story arcs that sell well will almost certainly be collected into larger volumes and published as graphic novels, even if writers struggle to keep their heroes relevant to new decades. The nature of the graphic novel itself is a complicated issue – some would say that it is just a pretentious term for a longer comic book, rather than anything more unique, and they’re probably right. However, for non-US residents, graphic novels are incredibly important, since it’s really difficult to get hold of comics, and unless you live near a decent comic shop you invariably miss some issues. Waiting until the collected edition is available in Waterstones is, frankly, much easier, and you end up with an attractive tome to adorn your shelves.Transmetropolitan: Back On The Street Warren Ellis

Foul-mouthed, gonzo journalist Spider Jerusalem makes the leftie press look cool in this rip-roaring, paranoid ride through an urban dystopian sprawl merely referred to as ‘The City.’ Spider takes on corrupt politicians, his editor and an apathetic and ignorant populace of thousands in a city where a new religion is invented every 35 minutes and a new cable channel every 20. It’s like Hunter S. Thompson. But in the future.
Like this? You’ll never find anything as good and you’ll cry into your alcoholic beverage of choice every night wishing that you could just go back and read it with new eyes. And if Ellis’s predictions about the future come true, one day you possibly might.

The Complete ‘Maus’ Art Spiegelman

In an intensely biographical and autobiographical work, the writer records interviews with his aged father who survived the Nazi concentration camps. We switch between the narrative which takes place during WWII and the narrative during the present day, in which Spiegalman attempts to relate to his father in the aftermath of his mother’s suicide. We see the writer and budding cartoonist decide on the best way to tell his story, deciding on a very simplistic, detached style in which the Germans are portrayed as cats and the Jews as mice. This amazing work has won a Pulizter prize, and is often and justifiably compared to Schlinder’s List.
Like this? Try Palestine by Joe Sacco or Pride of Baghdad by Brian K. Vaughan.

The Astonishing X-Men: Gifted Joss Whedon

Joss Whedon (of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame) takes on Cyclops, Wolverine and the team in a way that invites new readers of the comic to enjoy them alongside the old readers, using his trademark witty dialogue and showing what happens when a brilliant writer who grew up with these long-running characters is handed the series and let loose.
Like this? Try the next instalment; it’s even better. (I won’t tell you what they do to Wolverine, but it’s wonderful and humiliating and worth waiting for.) Alternatively, Buffy fans should try Joss Whedon’s Season Eight, the official continuation to the TV series in comic format.

Sandman: Preludes and Nocturnes Neil Gaiman

This title introduces the Endless; near-immortal beings who embody essential parts of humanity and the universe. Desire is everything that you have ever wanted, with eyes as tawny and sharp as yellow wine. Dream, the Sandman, is the prince of stories, the muse of many. Death is a goth girl wearing lots of eyeliner. The first in a ten part series, these graphic novels begin slowly but end superbly. Each book is enjoyable by itself but the true power of the series only becomes apparent once you have finished the entire story, so only begin these books if you have lots of money and time. Like this? Try: Fables or Death: The High Cost of Living

Batman: The Dark Knight Returns Frank Millar

The mini-series that made Batman cool again. Released in the same year as Watchmen and projecting much the same mood, this series did away with the camp image projected by the Batman and Robin seen on TV and re-introduced readers to the brooding and lonely detective figure employing dubious methods of justice in order to keep crime-ridden Gotham City safe. Millar also introduces us to the first girl Robin.
Like this? Try Moore’s Watchmen or the noir feel of Millar’s Sin City.

Fables: Legends in ExileBill Willingham

Another one for English students and anyone else who enjoys a new take on an old genre, Fables crafts the characters of Eastern and European fairy tales into creatures living in our modern world, their survival dependant on their continued presence in storytelling. (Note – if they ever make a movie of this, Bigby Wolf – get it? – would clearly be played by Colin Firth and a wet shirt scene would be mandatory.) It’s a romance, but it’s intelligent. Spotting minor characters from obscure folk tales provides plenty of fun too.
Like this? Try Gaiman’s Sandman or Moore’s The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

I’ve not denied any holocausts, and I even invent extra ones
Students can’t do anything. Put ‘student’ in front of any art form – journalism, comedy, drama – and you might as well switch it for ‘dismal’ straight off. We’re all just preening, scrabbling amateurs, harping on into the void; maybe someday, they’ll let us try it for money. Students are useless. So, I don’t like being told what to think, say, do, or listen to by students. This means I don’t like No Platform policies, in any form. I could just mock all the old arguments for it, but even the best ones have been crushed more times than Krishna Omkar, and the worst ones aren’t much more than ‘how would YOU like it if Hitler killed YOU?’ You wouldn’t, you see. You’d be dead! Deep stuff. My main objection is more personal. I don’t like OUSU banning fascists for one simple reason: according to them, I am one. This came as a shock. I’ve never killed anyone; I’ve not denied any holocausts, and I even invent extra ones, just in case I might be forgetting some. I’m not homophobic, or racist (some of my best gays are black). I didn’t deserve this.This began in my first year, when I founded the ‘Oxford Uni. Society Union’ (‘OUSU’) – half drinking society, half juvenile satire. We copied the ‘real’ OUSU in some respects – we all called ourselves ‘Vice President’ for the sheer gurgling heck of it – and improved on it in others, in that we chose our President by Rock, Paper, Scissors. A few months down the line, we thought it a masterstroke to take ‘OUSU’ to Freshers’ Fair, stand around in our t-shirts, and demand to be taken seriously. In the end, we lasted about two hours: arriving back from lunch, everything on our stall had gone, confiscated. I’d included a reference somewhere to ‘cock-guzzling corporate whores.’ Clause 12 of their regulations banned this, they said, and out we were turfed.Later on, I was to find that the clause was one to ban groups that ‘advocate, incite or perpetrate… violence against ethnic, religious, cultural or sexual groups,’ the precise words of the No Platform policies, old and new. They’d used this to clear us out: I was a fascist, and a violent one at that. I wonder what cultural or sexual groups we were supposed to have ‘incited violence’ towards – IB interns with semen-heavy diets? Are they even a sexual group? Since then, it seems our letter of complaint got lost. Four months after handing it to the organisers in person, there’s no reply. This, kids, is the problem, put simply. The ‘fascists’ we’re against are whoever OUSU say they are, and at times we’ll disagree. Censorship might make sense sometimes: but if anyone gets to decide, it should never be students. Students are useless. Let fascists talk: take it from me. I am one.

See pictures here!St. Peter's……or Pembroke?

Babies are strange creatures. Small and pudgy, they elicit either cries of delight or frowns of irritation, but their parents worship them like little demi-gods. Today’s infants are able to lead something of a social whirl, with a bewildering array of activities and classes at their disposal, ranging from baby yoga and massage to nappuccinos – ‘coffee mornings where you can have a chat and find out more about cotton nappies from the experts.’
One could say that they have their household under their tiny thumb, and it is doubtful whether any Nobel prize winning author received more raptured approbation than your average baby upon the pronouncement of its first few words.
It is this – the way that babies learn about words – that is researched at the Oxford BabyLab, part of the Department of Experimental Psychology. While we can all remember the traumas of learning to solve quadratic equations, or of trying to remember the dates of First World War battles, few people can remember anything before three to four years of age, and so research is the only way of finding out about children’s early development.
Current research at the lab covers a range of different areas, including investigating when children first understand words – that is, whether they are able to link a picture with a word – something at which it appears they are remarkably good.
A rather interesting area focuses on how we identify what we see. Apparently, when shown a picture of an animal, adults first look at the head, and in particular the eyes, before moving on to other revealing features, such as a tail, and current research is aimed at seeing whether babies identify objects in the same way.
Those who possess a baby are in great demand as all these institutions are constantly on the look out for volunteers to research. So get yourself a baby and then get down to a babylab near you. You could be amazed what you discover. by Laurie Eldridge

This week: A Geography paper by Classicist Josie Thaddeus-JohnsAttempt to account for the fall in total fertility rate in China from 7.5 in the 1960s to 1.8 in 2002.During this period there has been a reduction in the amount of dating advice given in schools – instead of students being taught flirtation techniques, they are encouraged into academia. The lack of dating agencies also means that Chinese citizens have struggled to find either will or way to have sex with one another. The final decisive factor has been the huge rise in erectile dysfunction, particularly during the ‘80s, when shoulder pads were in fashion.

Plan 9 From Outer Space, a science fiction film from 1959, is widely considered a frontrunner for the dubious honour of being the worst film ever made. Every aspect of the film is ridiculed: the special effects, the dialogue, the acting; yet despite all this, I love it. I believe that, although certainly not one of the best films ever made, it can in no way be considered the worst. During a long, boring summer, a friend and I decided to watch the worst films we could find. Plan 9 From Outer Space stood apart from the others as being by far the most enjoyable. It has a plot that makes sense, as well as a political message that would have a strong place within Cold War society. One of the film’s main points of ridicule involves the fact that it was meant to star Bela Lugosi, who unfortunately died early in filming. The film’s now-infamous director Ed Wood, often called the worst director of all time, just replaced Lugosi with a chiropractor whose face remained covered. Yet, given the film’s plot, this doesn’t seem too odd. Lugosi’s character is supposed to be a member of the living dead who was revived by aliens. Dialogue, in this case, isn’t necessary. Perhaps I could be accused of loving Plan 9 because it’s pure camp. This is completely untrue. The film transcends the cesspool of ordinary camp, rising above such horrors as Anna Nicole Smith’s last piece of art Illegal Aliens, or Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (no, really), or Killer Drag Queens on Dope (my personal favourite). To be listed amongst these awful films does huge discredit to Plan 9. For a film to be considered ‘the worst of all time’ it should be truly unwatchable. Such a film should die quickly, silently, with a tinge of embarrassment, like the latest Jessica Simpson ‘film’ Blonde Ambition. Plan 9 makes sense and it flows in a fully comprehensible way. So what if it contains lines like, ‘But one thing’s sure. Inspector Clay is dead, murdered, and somebody’s responsible’? Many films contain lines that state the obvious. And so what if the special effects aren’t great? It’s not Star Wars; the film was made in 1959. Perhaps that even adds to its charm. Plan 9 from Outer Space has survived for years based on the notion that it is the worst of the worst, yet people continue watching it. It is truly an enjoyable film that deserves to be seen. So let’s stop calling it the worst film of all time, and instead let’s call it what it is: amazing!by Hayley Mirek

Freddy Parton talks to John Bird, founder of the Big Issue John Bird, founder of the Big Issue, is not your average charity worker, or even entrepreneur, for that matter. Homeless at the age of five, in an orphanage by seven and imprisoned by ten, he still managed to set up the most successful street newspaper in the world.
Unlike the smug entrepeneurs who appear on Dragon’s Den, John Bird is incredibly modest about his success. He defines an entrepreneur as ‘someone who sometimes gets it right.
‘Being an entrepreneur is a bit like being an actor,’ he says. ‘It’s a very lonely world and one that’s open to misinterpretation.’ John has certainly had his ups and downs; when he met with Gordon and Anita Roddick (founders of the Body Shop) in 1991 he had virtually nothing, was drinking heavily and had just broken up with his first wife. ‘I was a bit of a waster and wasn’t going anywhere’ – or so he thought. It was through talking with these old friends that the idea of the Big Issue came about. Gordon Roddick had been to New York and seen the free papers there, and was interested in starting up something similar in Britain. John, having been homeless himself, was keen to take on the project and, like all entrepreneurs, knew that he had to have money to make it work. ‘You have to learn to be charming’ he says, grinning. ‘You’ve got to stick to people with money like shit to a blanket.’
It wasn’t easy trying to set up the Big Issue. Homeless people thought it outrageous that they should have to buy the paper from John. The fact that the Big Issue, though a charity, does make a profit also caused more than a little controversy. For the first six months it was very difficult to get any vendors to work for the organisation. John describes the situation as pretty rough, as he and his helpers continuously got beaten up. ‘This didn’t last too long,’ says John. ‘We selected the troublemakers, the biggest brutes, and bought them over. They stopped beating us up and became our bodyguards.’
Having been homeless for most of his childhood, John feels that he can relate to the mindset of those who live on the streets. He describes his mother as the worst example of ‘Macawberism’ – always believing that something good would turn up. But by the time John was five, he and his four brothers were living on the streets.
At the age of seven he went into a Catholic orphanage from which he says he emerged as ‘a raving nutter.’ I ask John if he feels that his Catholic background has affected his attitude towards charity and the homeless. He nods and argues that it has given him the determination to never give up: ‘You believe that there will be answers to problems.’ What about his decision to become Marxist? ‘When I became a Marxist it was like moving from one religion to another.’ I ask what he views himself as now. ‘A Troto–Cath. I am lucky to have been blessed with two world views.’
John’s views on the treatment of the homeless are pretty controversial. His first principle is that you should never just give the homeless money. The problem, as he sees it, is that the Government is maintaining people in the state of homelessness instead of getting them out of it. ‘Paternalism is destructive,’ he shouts, emphatically waving his arms about. ‘They have to learn to stand on their own two feet. The tools that have been used for generations are actually enslaving them…homeless people have to be independent.’
These views aren’t always palatable to people who buy the Big Issue. ‘I used to get into all sorts of trouble at parties’ admits John. ‘People would come up to me and say, “Oh, I love the Big Issue, I always give them an extra tenner at Christmas” and I’d reply, “What!? I’ve just got the fuckers to work and be independent and you’re making them reliable on your charity again!” It didn’t go down that well.’
John does a lot of work advising governments on poverty. ‘I met David Cameron the other day,’ John laughs, ‘and I asked him how much he thought it cost to get him where he was today – he reckoned about £300,000. I replied, “David, you’re bloody cheap.”’ He goes on to explain, ‘Do you know it costs the government £60,000 a year to maintain one homeless person? And that might be for at least twenty or thirty years. We have the most expensive poor in the world.’ John has a very low opinion of social benefits. ‘Social security is the kiss of death…you have to be very strong to survive.’
I ask whether John approves of big charity events such as Comic Relief which emphasise the importance of giving. He pauses. ‘The problem is that a lot of that stuff you see on the TV only works if it gets into the hands of the people. As I always say, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” You’ve got to make sure that the cure is not worse than the illness.’ He doesn’t dismiss these charity events completely. ‘We’ve got to be optimistic that it’s clear that people want to help.’ Nevertheless, John believes that help will only work if charities work on the local level. ‘We’ve got to get away from big government formulas.’
John is very concerned about communities at a local level. His latest project is the Wedge: a sort of loyalty card that aims to save local high streets from being swallowed up by major brands. The business has been going for less than a year, but John is positive that it will be a success. ‘It’s a new way of stopping your community dying,’ he says emphatically.
John is a realistic man and he knows that the Big Issue system is not perfect. He admits that the homeless do sometimes abuse it by using the brand to legitimize their begging. ‘The people we work with aren’t all nice…they can be honourable and dishonourable, scabbers and thieves.’ He’s currently trying to turn the magazine around too. He laughs. ‘Half the people who buy the Big Issue don’t read it because it’s fucking boring!’
You can see why John has worked with the likes of Tony Blair. As well as being a great entertainer he’s utterly focused on his desire for social justice. Fundamental to this, is his belief that the homeless and those on benefit schemes have to work for themselves. ‘Like I said to Peter Mandelson once, “You have to fare well on welfare to say farewell to welfare.”’

2/5 This is the story of a disillusioned, soon-to-be divorced advertising executive who recounts his messy love life to his precocious daughter in the hope that, by piecing together the fragments, he might save his marriage. On top of this, he disguises the names of the women in his life and, as his various love affairs are revealed, his daughter tries to guess which of the pseudonymous women is her mother. It is through this double-layering that the writer/director has attempted to differentiate it from your average rom-com. You can see what he was hoping to do, namely tear the audience in two directions: holding them in a thrill of anticipation as they try to work out who will emerge as the mother, while simultaneously warming their cockles with the tomfooling antics of a blundering young fop with a heart of gold. The problem is you can see which one he is going to end up with from the off, and although there is the most unlikely of twists on the fertilisation front, what you knew would happen eventually does. The film opens with our hero Will (Ryan Reynolds), an all-American, starry-eyed young man who leaves his fiancée in a clapboard backwater and heads to New York to work on the ‘92 Clinton election campaign. We are taken through his various relationships: his college sweetheart, a sophisticated and beautiful journalist Summer (Rachel Weisz), and a politically apathetic scamp called April (Isla Fisher). The main problem with this film is that Will is highly unloveable; his foolish antics aren’t funny and his romantic side isn’t sincere. He is a cardboard cut-out, Americanised version of Hugh Grant and is unconvincing throughout. The film is redeemed somewhat by the stunning Weisz and a wonderful performance from Abigail Breslin as the daughter. Definitely, Maybe does break the old rom-com formula, but whether it needed breaking is certainly debatable.by Daniel Morgan

Warren, wasting his life, has been thrown out of his father’s house. Stealing a large sum of money he arrives at Dennis’ apartment, but in this squalid, drug- ridden bolt- hole he will probably not find the freedom from city life that he craves. Warren has been existing for the next high, the next weed-induced buzz, and his dealer, Dennis, holds him in as much contempt as his father. But Dennis is a parasite, clinging with vituperative relish on the younger, weaker Warren, enumerating his faults, glorying in his superiority. ‘I’m the basis for, like, half your personality!’ he informs Warren. Like any parasite, his long, angry speeches are hiding a barely realized self-hatred. Paul Barker plays Dennis with a superb sense of self- satisfied irony. Even when angry, when physically attacking Warren, a sardonic smirk hovers on his lips. Irony has neutered his anger, just as it has neutered the hope he is trying to replace with drugs. What Warren is trying to cover up, as much with drugs as with his continual, awkward attempts to be nice, is the shadow of his murdered sister. Warren is played extremely well by Casey Genin, who captures his geeky good nature, both when he is cowed by Dennis’ aggression, and when he is trying to seduce Jessica. Jessica, fancied by Warren and a prospective buyer for Dennis, is full of opinions. The lethargic, increasingly tense atmosphere that the two men artfully create is broken when she emerges, buzzing with energy and anger. At first dismissive, then receptive to Warren’s opinions and advances, Kassandra Jackson personifies the role of a belligerent college girl on the edge of womanhood. But for all her confidence, her assertion ‘What you’re like now has nothing to do with what you’re gonna be’ is carefully undermined. This isn’t a play about the death of youth and the birth of maturity. It is about the blossoming of the young in the face of adversity and tragedy. And it is definitely worth watching. By Timothy Sherwin